


death and his ferryman

by jiyangist



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Crushes, Denial of Feelings, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Greek Mythology AU, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, charon!johnny, hades!ten, johnny is sarcastic, ten is dramatic, ten is lonely :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24195883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiyangist/pseuds/jiyangist
Summary: Being the god of the underworld was a lonely occupation. With the mere company of 3 disruptive fates and a 3 headed dog, Ten often found himself overworked and affection deprived.That is, until he befriended the undead Ferryman.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 11
Kudos: 69





	death and his ferryman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [10vesick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/10vesick/gifts).



Being the Lord of the Underworld had its ups and downs.

Most days dragged on for centuries, it seemed. Of course, time works quite differently for immortal gods, but even then, days in the Underworld moved slower than molasses in January. Ten had long since gotten used to it.

Lately, things in the Underworld have been… _hectic,_ to say the least. The Fates have been on his ass constantly, approving deaths here, humans attempting mass genocide there… it was busier than usual. Not only was it stressful in the Underworld, but tensions were high on Mount Olympus because of all of this as well, not to mention the usual daily insufferable scrapping between gods. However, seeing the prissy, selfish, conceited gods of Olympus having to deal with something other than which human to fuck that day, reduced Ten’s moodiness. _Serves the cheaters right._

Ten rubs his forehead in an attempt to relieve the splitting headache growing slowly from the Fates’ booming voices. A scream sounds through the throne room, indicating another human death.

“Your Deathliness, Olympus has called for a meeting with you to discuss matters of the threatened mass genocide, as well as the pandemic outbreak in America.” Xiaojun, the Fate of the Past begins. Ten crosses his arms and leans against his throne of bones, flames rising from his fists.

“First, I told you to quit with the _‘Deathliness’_ thing. Come up with something better. Second, tell Olympus to suck my immortal dick. This is the third time they’ve requested my attendance to that god forsaken mountain in the past 24 hours.” The Fates snicker loudly, and Ten only returns the favor with a sharp glare, the flames that grace his body dying down once again. He adjusts the onyx black robes that fall off his pale shoulders.

“Ten, personally I think you should march your little self up there, and burn the whole place to the ground!” Yangyang, the youngest of the 3 Fates, and in charge of the Future, chimes in.

“Yangyang, you absolute imbecile, you don’t think he’s tried that?” Hendery, the Fate of the Present asks sharply, giving the boy a hard punch in the arm.

“Well of course, just ask Xiaojun. But with those dumbass Olympians being distracted-”

“It takes a little more planning than that to just march into Olympus, aren’t you supposed to see these things? You ARE in charge of the Future!” Hendery interrupts.

“Enough!” All three of them duck out of habit, as to avoid the hurtling flames that Ten shoots at their heads daily. The red flames miss and die down behind them in the huge room. Ten breathes heavily, before smoothing his flaming black hair back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m cool.” He settles once more, regaining his composure before glaring and continuing. “If you three idiots are _so_ bored that all you can do is argue with each other in my palace, go do it somewhere else. Or, I don't know, do your JOBS. Now get out of my sight before I maim you.” Xiaojun sighs, and the three of them give half-assed bows before leaving the throne room. The room grew silent, the only sound being the distant moans of the River Styx, and the occasional scream of an incoming death.

☆☆☆

The underworld was painfully lonely. Besides the ever-so-annoying Fates, he rarely interacted with anyone else. Once or twice a day he would visit his three headed dog Cerberus, who sits and guards at the mouth of the palace. Everyday he would go down and feed him whatever fresh human meat he could find, and _totally_ wouldn’t sneak glances at the Ferryman.

Okay, he may have stared more than he thought.

The Ferry was the Underworld’s only pass of transportation to the Land of the Living. With the chaos ensuing outside of the Underworld, Ten made more and more trips to the living world, especially to Olympus. Whether to terrorize, make sarcastic comments, or cause _more_ chaos, was subjective.

However, he had become close with the Ferryman over the centuries. Traditionally, all the Ferryman did was transport him across the River Styx, silently. Ten had learned long ago that although normally silent, when talked to, this undead Ferryman was a snarky, charming, and endearing soul (or lack thereof). Their conversations were fairly short for as long as the ride across the Styx was. Ten realized it had been centuries since he found someone he liked, if he could still _like,_ that is. It sure feels that way. He lacked interaction with anyone he had ever found attractive, so he could unsystematically flirt, but somewhat shut down when he was the one being flirted with. Lucky for him, Johnny was very flirtatious. But to be completely honest… he didn’t really know what he looked like. Ever since he had begun working under him, he wore an over sized, long, midnight black cloak with a deep hood that covered almost all of his face. The only thing he ever saw was his lips. Those gods damned lips. Ten liked to look at personality over looks, but if the rest of him matched those lips, he might have just won in both areas. Though, the developing of.. what Ten could feel may be his lack of human and spirit interaction talking.

That’s how he ended up sitting cross legged in the front of the boat, arms crossed defensively, with his expression about 10 times scarier than usual. Which was saying something. The god tapped his own arm, impatiently wishing to get this over with as soon as possible. A part of him felt a sense of excitement that he got to go to Olympus, maybe because of the thought of pushing his brothers’ buttons, or maybe it was the thought of finally returning, even if only temporarily. Ten was pulled from his own depressing thoughts by a dry-sounding voice behind him.

“Rough day at the office, My Lord?” His voice was laced with sarcasm and seemed to break from lack of speaking. Ten turned his head to the side slightly, throwing a scoff over his shoulder to the spirit. “You can’t even imagine.” He brings a hand up to rub his forehead with two carefully painted black fingernails, a hobby he had recently taken up.

“Humor me.” Johnny simply replied while rowing the paddle once more. Ten smirked to himself before swiveling himself to face the Ferryman, swinging his legs over the bench seat, leaning up against the side of the boat, and crossing his legs lazily once more. He lifted his left foot onto the bench beneath him, the purple underlay of his robes peeking through the endless black. He could’ve sworn he saw a twinkle of light where the spirit’s eyes would be.

“Where do I even begin. My brothers fucking hate me, kinda valid, but that’s beside the point. Self deprecation, ya know. Anyways, they act like I control human’s drive for mass genocide or corrupted ways, when in reality all I do is watch over the dead and make sure they don’t escape or do stupid shit. I’m doomed to this hell of mine which my brother so charitably bestowed upon me. And yet I’m torn because there’s no way in hell I ever want to go back to Olympus… it’s crawling with disloyal, rich fools.” Johnny had stopped rowing about 2 sentences in, allowing the boat to slowly flow to a stop in the middle of the River Styx.

“Huh… sounds like a rough existence at the office.” He replied, standing the oar in the boat with his hands atop it, his chin resting on them. A scoff left Ten’s lips as he silently studied the figure in front of him.

“So what’s the verdict, Doctor? How long have I got?” A smirk graced Johnny’s plump lips, which caused something he couldn’t quite name in Ten. The spirit hummed while he faked deep thinking for a few moments, his index finger tapping his pale chin.

“The verdict is… you’re lonely.” He said with utmost confidence, but the words packed no pride or malice. These words kind of… hit Ten like a truck because well… _he’s right._ The mere company of 3 annoying fates and a 3 headed dog was… nice, _I guess_ , but he couldn’t say he didn’t crave affection… interaction… _anything._

“My Lord, I see you, you know.” This confuses Ten, causing him to cock his head to the side. Johnny smiles and continues, “Around. I see you working hard, you’re not a bad person. Or, god, per se. Quite the opposite of the image others perceive you as. Cut yourself some slack.” Ten was… shocked to say the least. He hadn’t heard anything even remotely like this in… centuries… millennia… _eons_. And to hear it from his undead Ferryman’s own mouth? What the fuck was happening.

“... So what you’re saying is... I either need therapy, a hobby, or a hug?” That’s when Ten hears Johnny laugh for the first time. It's soft and light, floating through the thick fog. It perfectly juxtaposed his image and the dreary air of the Underworld.

“All of the above, if possible. All would benefit you, Your Highness.” He says as he places the oar back in the moaning waters, his long hood flowing in suit with the wind and movement. He lifts his head, which exposes his eyes, only for a second. They’re as light as nectar, almost sparkling in his deep set sockets, which definitely look undead. His cheeks are sunken in and his face is pale and almost a light green color, and yet Ten still finds himself _enamored by him_. A mere seconds look and it’s almost set in stone. Ten likes him. _A lot_. The god catches himself staring at the hooded spirit, watching him slowly row the boat closer and closer to the mortal world.

They soon reach the shore, docking the boat on the deep black dirt and sand. The moans grow distant as Johnny jumps gracefully out of the boat and onto the shore, almost floating for a moment. The god rises from his place, lifting his deep black and purple robes above his bare ankles as he goes to step out of the boat. An undead hand entering his line of site stops him in his tracks, his eyes slowly glancing up to the owner of this hand. Johnny stood on the shore, offering a snowy white hand, contrasting the deadly black of his cloak. He cocked his head to the side, and Ten felt like if he could see his face, he’d be smiling again. With what little composure he had remaining, he took the hand with his right, and stepped onto the numbing cold sand. Now, he knew he was short, he had accepted this fact _long ago._ But next to Johnny he felt incredibly tiny. Now Ten remembered why he picked Johnny for this job, he was intimidating.

“Here you are, Your _Deathliness._ ” Sarcasm dripped from his words and tone, and Ten could only quirk an eyebrow to cover up the fact that _he didn’t hate that term if it was coming from the Ferryman’s mouth_. Ten’s hands suddenly felt clammy.

“...Thank you.” Johnny was silent, with an unreadable expression since he couldn’t see it. His robes rippled with a gust of wind once more. “For keeping me company. You were right, you know.” He swears he can see Johnny smiling. “About the whole… ‘being lonely, craving affection’ thing. I suppose we should converse more often.” Johnny let out a chuckle, before bringing his hands up and lowering his hood. Ten could barely make much out in the darkness, but his caramel eyes, pale skin, and grey hair sparkled in the abyss.

“Are you asking me out on a date, My Lord?” He smirks mischievously, taking a step towards the god of the underworld. Ten feels his stomach drop for a moment, and stutters once before speaking. “No- I mean... _Shut up_.” The god storms past the spirit, a smile threatening to break onto his face as the light laughter behind him gets lighter.

“ _My Lord._ ” Ten momentarily stops, glancing over his shoulder and through his dark hair. The Ferryman softly smiles, a hint of mischief on his face.

“Good luck.” The god can’t help but genuinely smile. _I can do this. I’m the fucking king of the dead_. And with that, he winks, turns towards the tunnel ahead, light distantly beaming, and heads to the Land of the Living.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, i really appreciate it. this was entirely self indulgent, and was sitting in my drafts for months. I hope you enjoyed it <3


End file.
